Echoes of Reach

Ken's world exploded into a cacophony of sensory overload. He reached for a memory close to the surface. One moment he was thinking of Doritos and Mountain Dew and the next, he was in the middle of Armageddon!

Blinding pillars of white fire, like vengeful gods' fingers, ripped into the distant horizon, accompanied by a continuous thunderous roar that seemed to vibrate through the very bedrock of the planet. It wasn't just sound; it was a primal tremor that resonated deep within his very soul itself. He choked, a harsh rasp that tore from his throat. The air, thick and acrid, burned his lungs. It tasted metallic, a foul cocktail of ozone, pulverized rock and death. Disoriented, his vision swam, the world a swirling kaleidoscope of colours and fragmented images. A lance of white-hot pain pierced his brain and a primal scream ripped from his lips, a guttural eruption of pain, fear, and a burgeoning indignation that defied his comprehension. Panic clawed at his throat, a cold, constricting hand squeezing the air from his lungs. Was he even on Earth anymore?

The echo of the explosion in the mall, the searing heat, the metallic tang of blood… it all felt like a lifetime ago, a faded nightmare coming back. A single, horrifying thought hammered in his skull: "Wait! Didn't I die? Is this hell?" Had that been it? Was this some twisted afterlife, a desolate purgatory just for him? He squeezed his eyes shut, the scream dying in his throat, replaced by a strangled gasp. Clutching at his head, he sank to his knees, dropping his helmet onto the coarse, alien soil a harsh contrast to the cool concrete floors of the mall parking lot. His mind reeled, a chaotic storm of questions threatening to consume him.

A sharp, metallic clang suddenly resonated in his head, washing over his entire being, cleansing him of the anguish and overload in waves, when suddenly… "Greetings, Subject 17. Welcome to Reach." The voice, devoid of inflection, echoed directly within his mind. It was the voice he felt he knew, from nothingness?

"17? What is this? Wh-where am I? Who are y-you?!" Ken stammered, his voice raw. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

"You are Subject 17, currently on the surface of the planet Reach. Local time: 09:12 hours, August 30th, 2552, pre-glassing of this particular area." The disembodied voice remained emotionless. "And I am Echo, your assigned symbiotic intelligence."

Ken's head spun. Glassing? Reach? This couldn't be real. This had to be some elaborate hallucination, a twisted result of the mall attack. But the weight of the standard UNSC issue MA371 rifle strapped across his back felt real enough, so did the soil he knelt on and the destruction seemingly closing in on him.

"Wait," Ken choked out, a bitter taste rising in his mouth. "UNSC? Covenant? This is some kind of messed up joke, right?"

"This is not a joke, Subject 17. The total destruction of Reach by Covenant invasion is imminent, an undefeatable fleet expected here within the day. You have been transmigrated here due to unforeseen circumstances but due to that, we, get a second chance to fight for life." The synthetic voice lacked any hint of apology.

Transmigrated? Like an anime character? Ken's mind reeled. The memories of Halo, the demo he clung to in his youth, the lore he soaked up on the internet when he could afford it, it all came flooding back. Was this somehow… real?

"Look," Ken pleaded, his voice cracking, "there's been a mistake. I'm just Ken. Kenyatta Njoroge from a little town in Kenya! I'm not a soldier. I'm a graphic designer! I can't fight this…" Ken spread his arms out in a sweeping motion "…this war. Please, get me out of here!"

Silence. Then, "I have noted your desired designation, Ken 17. Your lack of combat experience is also noted. However, your only path to survival is through this battlefield. The alternative is assuredly undesirable for us both."

Ken looked out to the horizon, the horrifying image of destruction raining down on Reach burning into his mind – just like how the Covenant was at this very moment doing to Reach's crust. He pushed down despair long enough to ask, "There has to be a way out of this," Ken said, his voice barely a whisper.

"As I said, there is. Perhaps you will understand it better if I do this." Familiar HUD elements slid into Ken's field of view, startling him a little. "Your objective is to reach the extraction point marked on your HUD within the next hour. Once there, an evac vessel awaits. Combat is not necessarily required, however, if we are to make it to the extraction point on time, we will have to cut close to active combat zones and may be engaged as a result."

An hour? To survive against an alien invasion with no training? The odds were astronomical. Ken also took note of his appearance. His BDU was just like the usual UNSC marine fare except for being black with dark grey accents and no UNSC insignias. He considered for a moment, "That means friendly fire isn't out of the question. Great". Perhaps it was the effect of having something familiar framing his vision, but a flicker of defiance sparked within him. Giving up wasn't an option, at least not yet. He wouldn't let it end like it did back in the mall.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. "Alright, Echo. What do I need to do?"

There was a faint pause before Echo replied, "While the UNSC here has been more or less wiped out, there are still some small Covenant patrols in the vicinity. Avoid detection at all costs. Your current loadout includes an MA37 battle rifle, a fragmentation grenade, and a combat knife. While your proficiency with these weapons and combat is low in general, it should suffice to get us to the extraction point. I will support where I can, for instance, interfacing with systems and ensuring weapon inventory functions similarly to what you are used to."

Ken's eyes gleamed, "Wait, are you saying I can scavenge a tank, gunship or even a battle cruiser and you will put them in the inventory?" Ken hefted the rifle, getting accustomed to the feel and weight of his MA37. A little pause possibly indicated Echo's slight surprise at the jump in logic. "I am technically capable of it, however, I am bound by certain limitations I cannot elaborate on, Ken 17. Just expect things to work for you similarly to how they did in the game except with capacity limits lifted. For example, if you pass close enough to any discarded UNSC ammunition and weapon caches, I can store and dispense it as you need it. I cannot do the same for Covenant power cells, yet… Perhaps we can discuss the finer points later? My sensors are picking up a shift in Covenant activity. The Pillar of Autumn's departure likely signalled the end of organized resistance. We'll stand out if we linger any longer."

Ken knew Echo was right. He'd been delaying this long enough. What happened in Moi Avenue Mall was still fresh and raw to him, but he had to get this over with first. He put on and secured his helmet.

"Alright, Echo," he said, a little bit of resolve hardening his voice just a touch. "Let's do this."